Of Mischief and Managing
by Obliv
Summary: Enter Penelope Cariff a freshly turned eleven year old girl who doesn't believe in anything magic. Well, that just can't do, can it?
1. Prologue

P R O L O G U E

* * *

She receives the letter with the red seal on July 1st, one day before her eleventh birthday. Her surname was written in elegant script and she tore into the envelope with great haste.

Dear Ms. Cariff, (she began to read).

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at_ Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

She turns the letter over to see a list of requirements materialize on the back in equally fancy script.

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

sets of plain work robes (black)

plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)

by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi

by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection

by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring and owl OR a cat OR a toad.

**PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.**

A roleplaying game of some sorts delivered to the wrong Cariff, the girl concluded. It was all that simple, her surname was easy enough to be misjudged it could have been a "Cardiff" or a "Careiff" but never, never a Cariff, who was simple in all aspects and not even that bright. Besides, her name was common enough in her community that something so silly couldn't be meant for her.

"Olivia" she called, stuffing the letter inside her jeans pocket, deciding that making such a joke known would not be beneficial. She liked the elegant script and pretty handwriting so she might as well keep the thing. "No mail has arrived!" the woman's voice called back to her: "Alright Penelope! Come inside and help me with dinner!".

"Yes ma'am!" she answered jumping slightly when she felt her pocket shift, something inside her pocket moved but yet, that was quite impossible.


	2. The Exploding SUV

**Chapter One: The Exploding SUV**

* * *

_Dear Miss Penelope Cariff_—

Oddly, Father was putting up weird charms throughout the house "it's to add colour" he told her and she blinked albeit a little surprised that her father cared so much, he sighed, almost but not quite dramatically like he was playing in theatre. "Olivia likes them, they are suppose to help ward off bad dreams… or something". He shrugged his shoulders.

Best action would be to ignore the weird behavior entirely which Penelope was all to eager to do so.

_Dear Miss Penelope Cariff_—

The letters kept coming after that, and not in the usual manner either. It was very frustrating for Penelope to wake up with letters shoved under her pillow, materializing in her drawers, fluttering outside her bedroom window and most discerning of them all, appearing beside her father's head when he wasn't looking, and when he did look the letter would all but disappear.

The letters seemed to have a stroke of humor that Penelope was not fond of.

She stashed the newest letter in one of her drawers not bothering opening it anymore, at first she thought she was quite popular, receiving different letters at random times of the day but opening the first three, then six, then eight, nine and ten it was easy to assume it was all the same, every. Single. Time. Just some silly make believe school, for witches a wizards, and some very, very high tech technology for the disappearing and reappearing acts.

She had to admit that this situation wasn't quite normal, letters appearing out of thin air it wasn't anything short of magic. Yet she couldn't believe that, her father had instilled in her from such a young age (four and a half to be most precise) that you can only believe in things that are rational, things that make sense, things you can explain and Penelope couldn't, for the life of her, explain this. She thought for many nights on how she was suppose to breach the subject to her father and she was running out of places to hide the letters. Burning them did no good because once they were charred they would glow for a few moments and be good as new again.

Frustrating didn't even begin to cover it anymore.

Life at eleven was becoming extremely more difficult then when she was ten, the simpler and devastatingly boring years.

"Dad, I um, I got this letter in the mail" Penelope said to her father, the day of her birthday, while he was lounging on the couch watching his usual programs, mostly news, mostly with a portly man who always talked with a red face and an angry voice. "Its um, keeps showing up everywhere…" Her father blinked tired eyes at her. "I see" his low voice was extremely authoritative and Penelope felt herself straighten up her shoulders "yes sir" she continued her voice slightly stronger, slightly more soldier like reporting to her commander. "I received a letter yesterday in the mail" she almost wanted to add "at thirteen hundred hours" with a salute but she decided her humor, however dry, would be lost. Her father, the retired army man, held out his hand. "Let me read this letter" she fished in her pocket for the creases of the first letter she shoved in there, pulled it out, and handed it to her father.

Reading her fathers expressions were always difficult, the army taught him to mask his emotions from the enemy and now, unbeknownst to him, he did it unconsciously. It always looked like her father was angry at something, but that was never the case he just had hard features and cold eyes.

"This is absurd". He stated and Penelope found herself nodding even though she did not agree. Absurdity or not it was hers and she felt fiercely over-protective over the paper her father was currently smoothing over.

"They keep coming in the mail" She said, not wanting to tell him how these letters just kept appearing everywhere she seemed to go, **magically** something inside her whispered but she chose to ignore that, too.

"Throw them out at once they mean nothing, just some childish prank, I'll call the post office tomorrow to get this sorted"

"Yes father, thank you." but she wasn't thankful at all.

"And Penelope? Olivia and I will be taking you out for dinner this evening for your birthday, with the Wevlow family, so please wear something presentable" she had to appease the Wevlows because how horrid would it be if their esteems were affected by her dress, how disastrous would everyone feel if eleven year old Penelope Cariff showed up in a yellow jumper and blue ribbons in her hair?

"But father!" Penelope yelped, she loathed the Wevlows especially that Darian mutt with his twelve year old prestige and his behind sitting on millions, his father, Leonardo Wevlow was a kind gentleman (although a little bit snooty but she guessed that came with the prestige) but his son was the spawn of something much eviler then a tall British man in tailored slacks. The Wevlows were held in high esteem Mr. Wevlow was a business man, an entrepreneur who sought out small businesses and turned them into something great, His wife Doreen hosted extravagant parties and held benefits for anything she deemed important. Olivia introduced them as the family who turned her runty bakeshop into a thriving franchise.

They all (the parents, anyways) became fast friends after that, Leonardo was in the same brigade her father was in back in the day, and they would sit around and pass stories to one another and laugh. Mrs. Wevlow and Olivia would talk at lengths about the bakeshop and gossip about up-and-coming women in the community. It was all very white collared conversation that her father gruff and sometimes a tad awkward in social situations did not fit in at all. They did not belong to this strange world of glamor and money. Alas everyone was getting along except her and Darian.

Father and Mr. Wevlow almost forced the friendship of Darian and herself, and it wasn't by any means workable they both loathed each other and Darian was just as pigheaded and terrible as any snake. Penelope didn't even understand why their relationship was so sour, it just was, and from the first moments they locked eyes they disliked one another. The first time they met he gave her a smirk and asked her if she made her skirt herself, and when she said no, of course not. He told her that she might as well have since she looked like one of his poor housekeepers.

"No but's Pen" her fathers dark eyes met hers and her shoulders straightened once more, "Yes sir, of course" she snapped out of her thoughts about that horrible boy. He cracked a very small, very tired smile at her and she returned it, as small and a little forced.

She left him alone after that. Her pocket feeling empty and for that moment she was a little bit sad that her suspicions were proven, a measly prank her father had said. The letter obviously meant nothing. She shouldn't feel as saddened as she does now, especially the fact that she basically scoffed in magic's face.

And with that note she believed her father because he was always quite right about everything.

Eight fifty four, the same evening, a letter appeared once more, this time in the bathtub right when she was about to step out. It was wet and she stared at it blankly. It kind of flopped around like a fish out of water and she started to take pity on the thing, even though it was just a letter.

She didn't read this on either just sighed and flushed it down the toilet, (pity lost when she saw the usual red seal and a sudden jolt of anger coiled within her) She watched it swirl clockwise down the drain and something inside her, that insistent voice told her that she just flushed her future, literally, down the drain.

_Be quiet_, she snapped at herself, her mind, and her subconscious. That little nagging voice that never left her alone. It was odd, she was suppose to grow out of that by now, the "imaginary friend", the one who whispered in her ear when she was thinking of something completely and utterly childish, or when she was facing a crisis and was about to do something completely stupid it would step in and give her a little nudge in the right direction.

When she was younger she believed it was her mother, the woman she never met, never heard stories about didn't even know she had one until some kids at school said it was weird, not having a mom and all, strange that her father packed her lunches and picked her up after school. They teased her for it, she remembers, a mother only leaves if they don't like the kid—a friend told her once, her best friend, who always had pretty bows in her hair. A mother leaves when the child's been bad the smaller girl would smile at her and pat her on the head like she was some terribly injured bird. Did you do something mean to your mommy for her to leave? She'd ask her and Penelope was confused. I never met my mother, Penelope would tell the girl, she left when I was born. Oh, the girl would whisper, so that's it, you were born and she went away. Your father mustn't like you very much.

Daddy loves me, Penelope would say angrily pushes her friends hands away and her best friend would give her a hug and smile sweetly, yes of course he does, but he's probably sad that you made your mommy leave.

She couldn't argue with that.

But it wasn't, of course. The voice, it wasn't her mother. She's eleven now, she knows she's just crazy, she knows that her best friend wasn't a friend at all, and she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is no such thing as magic.

If there was magic, she'd know someone with it. If there was magic the books at her school library that dealt with sorcery and wizards would be non fiction not fiction, if there was such a thing as magic her father would find some way to use it to bring back mom if there was magic—.

"Penelope are you ready?" she snapped out of her tirade.

"Yes father" she called, closing the lid to the toilet and hastily putting on her have-to-impress-people clothes and headed down the stairs.

At nine o'clock (a measly six minutes after) her world frankly, changed.

Her father drove a blue SUV, Olivia was in the front seat putting finishing touches on her lipstick—not that she needed lipstick, especially the weird purple colour she was putting on her lips currently. Olivia was what her father called her a "step-mother" not her actual mother but more like a substitute, they weren't married (not yet anyways) but they've been together since she was nine and she always gave Penelope her famous muffins when she was feeling bad.

She liked Olivia, she made her father smile but she didn't want to call her mom, because Olivia was more like her friend (her only friend) and she couldn't for the life of her replace that friendship for something so foreign like having a mother.

Olivia understood, she said she had a stepmother and her story was more like Cinderella, her stepmother was mean and never gave her muffins. Olivia accepted and cried a little (mascara running, the whole nine yards) when Penelope told her that she wanted to be friends, she gave her a loose hug and Penelope could smell her strong perfume which was, strangely comforting.

A buzzing sound caught Penelope's attention, it appeared out of nowhere and was filtering from the heat vent.

It was terribly annoying.

"Father, do you hear that sound?" she asked and her father shook his head. Concentrating on driving and humming along to the radio.

"What sound do you hear dear?" Olivia asked, she was so beautiful without makeup, she looked like one of those mistresses from the drama's Olivia watches. With it, she looks like her makeup is caked on her face like batter from her cookies. "I um, it's like a buzzing". It was getting stronger, louder, and it was starting to grate on her nerves the car shook as it ran over a larger rock, but then the car kept shaking, kept buzzing, and then the girl gasped when the heating vent started glowing.

Olivia shrieked, Her father cursed and the car hummed, shaking like it had a bad cold and then it happened. Her father slammed the breaks, almost skidding into a tree, the road was empty but the car was currently at an angle glowing like a Christmas tree and having a severe case of the shakes.

Letters, thousands, no millions starting flying form the air vents, from the stereo, and from underneath the seats they started materializing, burying the Cariff family.

"F-!" Penelope tried to scream to her father but the letters were already up to her mouth, she was going to die, she was going to die in a ugly party dress with silly purple bows.

"Penelope!" she heard a muffled screech and the sound of Olivia crying.

And then, almost instantly the letters stopped, they stopped moving, suffocated them and lay dead. The millions of letters turned out to be hundreds and when her father was able to open his car door they all came pouring out onto the concrete.

"What, what the hell was that!" Olivia all but shrieked, an interesting question that Penelope couldn't answer. They were all out of the car now staring at the outpour of letters; she picked one up, the same red seal almost smiled back at her.

Her father did not look happy.

"F-father"

"It's nothing!" he screamed voice so high it broke. "this is—this is nothing, means nothing we are going to go and have a_ nice dinner so help me God!"_ He started to shake and Penelope has never seen him so… hysteric.

"Hon…?" Olivia tear stained cheeks appeared beside her partner, "hon calm down, are you okay…." Her soft voice visibly calmed the older man.

"I can't!—" he said into Olivia's shoulder.

"Father…?" Penelope asked when he came towards her grabbing her shoulders painfully. "You can't go, Penelope" his cold eyes were wide and glassy. "I won't let you, you can't, Not after Didr—not after your mother—I can't okay? You can't"

"But… _dad_ I don't know what you're talking about" Penelope had no idea but a very ugly very terrible feeling was starting to brew inside her stomach. The letters were doing that pitiful fish flopping thing on the ground, they all ignored it.

"Penelope, it's all real" what. Mind blank.

"What?".

Her father struggled with the word "Magic". He spit it out like it left a sour taste in his mouth he looked like he was about to hit something—someone, maybe the tree.

"Father, that can't—" Olivia, sweet kind Olivia tugged Penelope's sleeve and pulled her into a hug. "Your dad… he hasn't told you everything sweetie".

"But this, this letter is nothing it's just a prank, it's just a-a-a very advanced technological prank" her father all but moaned a painful sound throwing his face into his hands.

"What he trying to say" Oliver said gently giving her father a how-dare-you-act-like-a-five-year-old-child look while stroking Penelope's head "Is that you are really, really special".

In Penelope's experience being special was never a good thing.

"Special?" Her father on the sidelines made the most pitiful sound but Olivia continues "yes" she smiled angelically "Remember that stepmother I told you about? She was very mean, but she was very powerful. She had magic" _like you._ Her smile said. "I know it's hard to believe" she quickly interjected raising her hands to the girls face " but believe me after turning into a frog a number of times I starting believing in a thing called Magic".

" But she was terrible! I don't want to be terrible! Magic is wicked and evil!"

"Oh Penelope" Olivia smiled at her "Not all witches are evil, actually most of them are quite nice".

"you can't be serious" Penelope couldn't believe this, Olivia had gone off the deep end, she was crazy. Her father though was hunched beside the SUV like an apocalypse survivor so she didn't know what to think or what to believe.

"You're a witch" her father finally said, his face was pale and his eyes, his cold, brown eyes were darker then she has ever seen he looked ready to hack a lung. "You are a witch and they want you to go to that… that place to learn how to control your…. abilities".

What is this… the Xmen or something?

"This can't…" Penelope gaped unable to processes this information.

"Any by the looks of it" he gestured at his watch looking terribly ill "it's after twelve and the application is late… so that means, they're coming". Her father sounded like he just swallowed sand paper: "I tried to stop it, I did. All those protection charms throughout the house, I thought… I thought I did enough".

"What, no. Father, this can't be serious…protection charms?"

And then something changed (something was always changing nowadays for poor Penelope), the sky started to shine, the moon got a little bit brighter and standing where their car should have been (and where it wasn't anymore, how did that happen?) was a tall boy in a blue cap chewing bubble gum.

"Hey Muggles! Perfect Gabriel Prevot , at your heavenly services". He then did a slight courtesy and lowered his hat to his chest. "Let's get this show on the road!"

and just like that, the Cariff family was back in their home, sitting on their couch, staring point blank at one, two, three and four Gabriel Prevot's all smiling Cheshire smiles at them.

Penelope gulped this cannot be good.

**To be Continued. **

* * *

Hello! This is the first official chapter of my long-fic "of Mischief and Managing". Penelope Cariff is the eleven year old main Protagonist, she is very mature for her age, having to care for her father for practically her whole life (that is, until he meets lovely Olivia). I think with these sort of "end notes" I will talk in depths about the characters more, their little quirks and other aspects that I may not be able to introduce into the story, is that a good idea? I'm not sure what else to say in these End Notes but that. Now I guess I should introduce Penelope a little more. She is an eleven year old girl who has a annoying voice constantly reminding her to do the right thing. This voice always reminds her that her actions leads to consequences. At this point not much is known about it, but it's not a mental aliment, it's mostly herself, her other self, the one that she strives to be more like. She didn't have a very fond time in her public school, she trusts to easy, her best friend was her most fearsome bully, she was suspended from school when she was falsely accused of setting the sprinkles off during her best friends piano recital ruining the performance (her chance of going to nationals) and her lovely dress. it was never proven who actually set the sprinkles off, but since Penelope was closest it had to be her.

Penelope was named after her grandmother on her mothers side, her full name is Penelope Lauretta Cariff.

Penelope's father was in the military for a long time, Penelope lived with her father's brother for the first couple years of her life until her father was honourably discharged ( a land mine blew up his tractor, he broke both arms, but still managed to save three of his "brothers"). He's blunt, awkward a little mean and big boned, he has cold eyes and a serious intimidating scar on his left cheek, Penelope knows that her father loves her even when he says "i'm not interested in this soap opera chick flick moment crap". Penelope loves him very much.

um, yes so I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and hopefully the next will be up soon. Thanks so much for the interest!


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